An awesome and ridiculous film that leaves you thrilled beyond the point of your natural endurance
2012
Theatre
The show has suddenly become quite wonderful, and the galvanising factor is the terrific stage debut of Melanie C
Blood Brothers
Music
The British pop music industry may be eating itself but if Muse are the pick of what it can offer the world in 2010 then British music is in rude health indeed
Muse
I was smitten by both Gilberts enormous luxuriant moustache and the intelligence and nuance of this highly entertaining play
I totally recommend Babbo to anyone who is looking for really good and traditional Italian food
Always been a fan but never seen them live. I was ecstatic to be part of this epic event. WOW!
London,
Charlotte O'Sullivan's rating
Reader rating
Family plot: Howard (Tom Wilkinson) with his nephews, Ian (Ewan McGregor) and Terry (Colin Farrell)
The worryingly prolific Woody Allen recently compared himself to an inmate in a mental institution: they weave baskets to maintain “stability”, he makes films. The irony is that his latest offering is quite barmy and all the more enjoyable for it.
Half an hour into Cassandra’s Dream, which, like his last two features, is based in London, it’s still impossible to tell what kind of film it’s going to be — black comedy? Crime caper? Mike Leigh pastiche? Howard’s Way-style showcase for boats?
Boats, you see, play a big part. Two devoted brothers, Ian (Ewan McGregor) and Terry (Colin Farrell) want to buy one. They constantly call each other by their first names. “Terry?” “Ian!” “What is it, Terry?” They also say things like “Christ, you break your back — it’s so hard to save money!” This much is clear: their names are Ian and Terry and they’re a tad short of cash.
Eventually, the boys manage to lay their hands on a boat, which they call Cassandra’s Dream, and it makes them feel they are following in the footsteps of their rich and successful, Hong-Kong-based uncle Howard (Tom Wilkinson).
McGregor — whose character is a jaunty would-be entrepreneur — talks like Michael Caine in The Ipcress File. Farrell, playing a gentle, gamblingmad mechanic, keeps slipping back into his own Irish brogue. Does Allen know what cockneys sound like? Do the actors realise the camera is rolling? What the hell is going on?
Then Ian happens to meet a beautiful woman called Angela (Hayley Atwell) and this bizarre narrative at last gains a sense of urgency. Maybe it’s because Angela — a self-absorbed and promiscuous actress — is a creature familiar to Allen. Maybe it’s because Atwell, so good in TV’s The Line of Beauty, is even more assured this time round, creating a “goddess” who floats juicily past fellow mortals, yet is believably insecure about her working-class roots.
The next high point involves Phil Davies’s appearance as a colleague of Howard’s who Howard asks the brothers to bump off. Cassandra’s Dream becomes a hit-man movie.
Silver-haired and poker-mad, Davies is glitteringly prosaic, a man of genuine mystery. He looks his warm-blooded killers in the eye and we have no idea what will ensue.
Films like Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels made it cool to show young, working-class men on the make, with bright lights and a noisy soundtrack as part of the package. Allen (with a little help from Philip Glass and legendary cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond) harks back to an earlier time, with London a labyrinth of quiet lanes, green leaves and existential angst.
Yet the result feels surprisingly post-modern: the metropolis has never looked so rootless. McGregor and Farrell, meanwhile, grow into their roles; McGregor, who has the harder job, is especially affecting. Sally Hawkins (unrecognisable in a yellow wig) also makes the most of her role as Terry’s sweet girlfriend.
Some US critics are blaming the Europeans for giving Allen a new lease of life (his backers these days are mostly foreign). What such critics forget is while talented, high-profile actors are willing — nay, desperate — to appear in his movies, this director will always get funding for his films.
But let’s not play the blame game. The old gimmer is here to stay and we can be grateful he’s not churning out tat like Cookie’s Fortune or The Curse of the Jade Scorpion. Allen has restless hands and, as Cassandra’s Dream proves, they’re still capable of weaving a little magic.
Details are correct at the time of publication - please check with venue before booking.
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